Lok'amon
by jmi
Summary: Pairing: ThrallxJaina The drums of war are thundering again. This time, however, it's between the human kingdoms of Stormwind & Kul Tiras. Jaina finds herself trapped between the factions, facing a civil war from her own people with the Horde at her back
1. Chapter 1

**Lok'amon**

**Author: **jmi/Sekhmire Eveningsblade

**Series: **World of Warcraft

**Rating: **M eventually (for adult themes, adult content, violence, & death)

**Pairings: **Thrall/Jaina Proudmore

**Feedback:** Is greatly appreciated

**Summary: ** Something/someone is threatening the tentative peace between the remaining human kingdoms of Azeroth at the time when the Dark Portal is allowing the Horde to venture back to their ruined home world.

**Distribution:** Please ask first.

**Author's Notes:** Influenced heavily by events in _"Cycle of Hatred"_ but may deviate from cannon.

**Disclaimer: **All locations and non-player characters are copyright Blizzard Entertainment. The character members of Darkspear Revival (Kirin Tor) are the creations of their players. The following is written for no monetary compensation or intention for profit. Aka'Magosh.

* * *

Sounds of cries and shouts echoed through the canyons of Orgrimmar as the sun began to set on what had been a crisp autumn day. For once, however, it was not a call to arms or the announcement of some great calamity befalling their world. Tonight was a celebration. The South Fury River had flowed strong and hard throughout the summer's punishing heat and the earth had blessed the residents of Durotar with the most plentiful harvest they had experienced since settling in the desolate peninsula. That made this year's Harvest Festival all the more joyous for the Orcs and Trolls that were the constant inhabitants of Durotar. 

As the young Warchief of this now party minded Horde gazed out from a hidden balcony high atop Grommash Hold, Thrall couldn't help but smile a bit as he watched his people dancing around a bonfire set up in a nook near the Hold. Taurens had come in droves, bringing the fruits of their own grasslands. Sharp blue eyes even noted here and there in the throng of bodies that the more reclusive and aloof members of the Forsaken and the Blood Elves were taking part in the celebration.

"I will say, your Orcs know how to throw quite a party, Warchief," a melodious voice sounded behind him. Thrall startled, his hand flexing as it reached for his absent hammer. He groaned when he saw the source, muttering to himself that the Ambassador Dawnsinger had surely cast some kind of enchantment on her feet to keep from making any kind of sound when she walked. "Yes," he nodded and watched the lithe Blood Elf move right up to the edge with him and stare appraisingly over the crowd. "They have cause to this year, Ambassador. The spirits have listened to our calls and granted us abundant food and another year of freedom."

"It's such a curiosity how you measure time in individual years," the Blood Elf laughed softly and offered the Warchief a full mug she seemed to produce from no where. "Tell me, why is it though that you are secluded up here and not celebrating down there with your people?" Thrall accepted and downed the drink so not to offend the Ambassador's generosity but found himself caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" he finally managed in response.

"Well," the Blood Elf smiled and leaned against the railing. "...I know for a fact there were several members of your personal guard that were hoping you would attend." Glowing eyes searched the crowd for a moment then pointed. "There... I see one of them. Ginta, I think her name is. I never thought Orc women to be ones for girl chat, but she and a few others were commenting abou..." She turned to face the Thrall and paused to admire the completely pole-axed look forming on the Orc's face. "Why, my honored, Warchief, can it be you don't realize just how popular you are with your own people? Surely one of those finely cut females has caught your eye if only in passing?"

The simple seeming question took Thrall completely aback with its implications. He stared down at the group the Elf had indicated and recognized them immediately. Most were members of the Warsong Clan. The Ginta that Dawnsinger had pointed out was a recently arrived member of his own Frostwolf Clan that felt her skills with a hammer were better served protecting their Chief than trying to master spirit calling for which she had no real gift. This one he watched for a while. Like most of his clan, Ginta had green skin and thick black hair that fell wildly around her face. She was stout, powerful, everything that a male Orc should desire in a mate. In fact, Thrall knew of many other Orcs of his own age, either born or raised in human internment camps, that now had mates and younglings. So why then did he feel no attraction for Ginta, or any of the other females scattered about the dancing mob? That wasn't right he realized with a grind of his sharp teeth. He kept finding his eyes drawn back to a Blood Elf lingering at the edge of the dancing. A silver furred Tauren was doing his best to coax the Elf into the party but the dark haired woman was being coyly resistant. Thrall watched the scene unfold, oblivious to the amused Elf still at his side. What was it about her? The slender, lean form was wrong to him in the same way the muscled form of Ginta had been; however this Blood Elf's delicate features continued to pull at his gaze. Finally the Tauren succeeded in his pleadings and he and the Elf vanished into the dancers.

"A copper for your thoughts..." Again that soft, tinkling voice woke Thrall from his pondering. The Ambassador smiled and for a moment Thrall wondered if she weren't somehow reading his troubled mind. "Excuse me, Ambassador," he bowed to the Elf. "There are things I still need to attend to." The Elf watched Thrall escape with a bemused smile as she swirled the contents of her still full mug with an elegant nail. "I hope you're pleased, Master," she whispered and glanced up to see a shadow move overhead.

The Warchief didn't linger long enough to overhear Dawnsinger's response before heading towards his quarters, mind swimming with these new uncertain questions. As he entered the surprisingly simple room he eyed Orgrim's hammer and armor arranged reverently against one wall. Would this have been something he could have discussed with the elder Warchief? No, Thrall shook his head and sighed. He knew that he would have been far to embarrassed to have broached this subject with Orgrim or Drek'Thar or spirits forbid Grom. That left the young Orc with only one other confidant that he had shared more with than almost any other living being. He ground his teeth together as he stared for many long minutes at the carved rune resting on a small table before he finally gathered it in his large hand and concentrated.

"Jaina..."

_to be continued _


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Influenced heavily by events in _"Cycle of Hatred"_ but may deviate from cannon. Thank you all for the wonderful comments, encouragements, and patience as I try to balance working, writing, and WoW.

**Disclaimer: **All locations and non-player characters are copyright Blizzard Entertainment. The character members of Darkspear Revival (Kirin Tor) are the creations of their players. The following is written for no monetary compensation or intention for profit. Aka'Magosh.

* * *

The sun was setting on Theramore Isle and the red light pouring into the windows gave the audience chamber a hellish mood that suited Lady Jaina Proudmoore just fine. She settled back on the throne and watched as her Elite Guard escort in a petitioner that had insisted he must be heard this day. It had been a light day of official duties, given most of the population was preparing for the End of Summer Festival. If she leaned slightly left Jaina could hear music filtering up from the streets below.

A stern cough to her right brought the mage's focus back to her duties. She glanced at the source and smiled faintly. Be it fate or blind luck that she had found the Magna Aegwynn living in seclusion near Ratchet, Jaina was thankful to either. Since taking over the duties as Chancellor, Aegwynn had become an indispensable asset to Jaina. One whose insight and worth she worried she was going to be putting to use very soon.

Her gaze turned back to the man now bowing before her and she felt her stomach knot in certainty. The man was dressed in fine robes and a tabard bearing the blue and gold symbol of the Kingdom of Stormwind. He seemed vaguely familiar with his dull blond hair and intricately shaved goatee but Jaina could not place where she had seen him. "Greetings to you, Lady Jaina Proudmoore of the Kirin Tor from His Majesty King Anduin Wrynn of Stormwind," the man began. Only a few words and Jaina found his voice extremely grating. Judging from the sigh beside her it seemed Aegwynn felt the same. "I am Jerulin Farley. Advisor, Chief Historian, and Foreign Relations Minister for His Majesty."

'So many pompous titles,' Jaina sighed to herself when suddenly she recalled how she knew him. He had been one of those insufferable scribes that came to pour over the many tomes and scrolls that had once filled the great library of the Violet Citadel in Dalaran. They had little or no interest in magic, only the information they could glean for whatever purpose had brought them to the magical kingdom.

"I must say," he continued in an oily smooth voice, "...the years have been quite kind to you, Lady Proudmoore."

"You are welcomed to Theramore Isle... I'm not sure how I should address you, Jerulin Farley," Jaina smiled in a very practiced fashion. "You have gained a great many positions since I last saw you."

"Emissary will suffice for now," Jerulin bowed slightly. "..as that is my function here, to bring His Majesty's words to you."

Something about that statement immediately did not sit well with Jaina and she felt herself unconsciously straighten. "Truly? Well it must be words of some import to demand an audience at such an hour," she returned the bow with a slight nod. "Has there been some disaster?"

"One is imminent, or so it has become apparent to us," Jerulin looked around the room slowly. "It is a disaster that Stormwind is not prepared to sit by idly and allow."

"Can you give me any specifics?" Jaina frowned, trying not to let her imagination run with ideas. After all she had seen more than her share of disasters and could imagine many others quite vividly.

"The Orcish domination of Kalimdor," Jerulin continued with a somber expression. "We have stood aside for too long and seen the citizens of Theramore struggle in this harsh environment, backed into this swampy corner by the superior numbers of the Horde. And our agents tell us that you had to enter into a non-aggression treaty to pacify the Orcs while they flirt with this facade of civilization. Well, Lady Proudmoore, I am here to see that all of this is corrected and that Kalimdor is properly protected and fostered into a prosperous land suitable for human habitation."

Jaina did not know if she should laugh or scream at the audacity of this man. Life had not been easy when she brought ships full of survivors to Kalimdor at the guiding suggestion of Medivh, but she was proud of what she and her people had built here and of the tentative peace they had maintained with the Horde since that brief uprising of the Burning Blade. To suggest that after all these years they suddenly needed protection from a kingdom they had no real ties to and that they were not fit enough to defend themselves was an insult that Jaina was not prepared to let slide. A quick glance from the corner of her eye told Jaina her Chancellor's exact thoughts on this pompous man and his declaration. The tight lips, the rigid stance of the older woman made it perfectly clear... Aegwynn was about to turn him into a frog if she didn't intercede. "Emissary... Farley..." Jaina began in a low voice. "...I think you greatly underestimate the strength of Theramore, its people, and our current situation in the world."

"Lady Proudmoore," Farley shook his head and continued in that irritating smooth tone. "We certainly do not marginalize what you have a managed to accomplish here through your remarkable leadership, but we also see things that are of great concern to many in Stormwind. Entering into any kind of treaty with the Orcs, given the bloody history they have written since invading our world, could be viewed by some as treasonous. However, His Majesty and his advisors are willing to overlook such a lapse as coercion and forge an annexation of Theramore with the strongest ties possible."

"You insolent little toad," Aegwynn hissed but fell silent when Jaina raised her hand. The elder mage smirked, recognizing well the cold fury that was stirring in the young woman. "Continue..." Jaina frowned. "...deliver your message in full."

"As I was beginning to explain," Jerulin shot Aegwynn a look of superiority. "His Majesty wishes the strongest of ties to help with the transition of Theramore into Stormwind. As He Himself is not of a proper age to make such a proposal, the Highlord has generously offered to accept your hand in marriage, Lady Proudmoore."

"Out of the question!"

The shout at the back of the room echoed loudly across the chamber, as did the heavy steps of metal covered boots. It had been years since she had seen him, and the weight of those years had obviously taken their toll, but there was no way that Jaina could mistake any other man in the world for Admiral Tandred Proudmoore. "Brother?" she whispered, a bit alarmed at his suspiciously timely arrival.

"I say that is out of the question," the heavily armored young man glared at the retreating Jerulin. "You come into a kingdom founded and ruled by a member of Kul Tiras sovereignty and attempt to usurp our rights? That act alone could be construed as a declaration of war."

"I would counter," Jerulin narrowed his gaze and regained his composure. He hadn't heard Jaina's whisper of recognition but the brilliant green tabard and gold anchor were obviously from the seafaring kingdom of Lady Proudmoore's birth. "...that your rights here were terminated when the Horde wiped out Grand Admiral Daelin Proudmoore's fleet. Kul Tiras has failed in its obligation to defend Theramore and has no standing in these negotiations."

"Is that the argument your people intend to use to defend your actions against us in the port of Menethil Harbor?," Tandred shot back, not even glancing in Jaina's direction as he fixed his rage filled gaze on the slender Jerulin.

"Menethil Harbor is the property of Stormwind," Jerulin took a step forward and raised his voice sharply. "And as long as Kul Tiras offers sanctuary and aid to the Bloodsail Pirates no ship from your kingdom will berth anywhere we have dominion. That has been His Majesty's decree."

"More lies to justify your land grabbing," Tandred fumed and gestured in Jaina's direction without turning that way. "And I will not stand by and allow you people to manipulate your way into my family or our lands. You'll have the Kul Tiras Navy armed and ready for war if you try to set one foot on this isle."

Both men were almost screaming by the time they were in each others faces hurling accusations and threats, ending when Jerulin produced a sealed scroll from under his tabard. "This is the official decree from His Majesty. If the Lady Proudmoore does not accept, Stormwind is prepared to use whatever means are necessary to ensure that human civilization is defended from the threat of the Or..." Jerulin's voice stopped abruptly, silence filling the room. His lips continued to move for several seconds before he realized he had been silenced. Tandred's voice had likewise ceased to function and both men stared at each other in shock.

"Now..." a cool voice drew their attention to the almost forgotten ruler of Theramore. Jaina drew herself up to her full height, though she knew it wasn't all that intimidating. She barely came to either man's shoulder. "I think both of you need to take a step back from whatever politics are at play and hear what Theramore has to say about this... proposal," Jaina almost choked on the word. They seriously expected her to agree to an arranged marriage to a man she had never met? It was infuriating, insulting, and as her brother had bellowed, out of the question. Especially when she had to suddenly force away the memory of the last man she had seriously considered making that commitment with. She felt Aegwynn's thin hand rest supportingly on her shoulder and continued quickly before the spell she had thrown over the pair could fade. "We, are a sovereign nation. Founded by some of the bravest people I have had the pleasure of knowing. I will not betray the trust they have placed in me by handing over control of their homes to a nation across the sea that apparently," she stared them both down, a longer and angrier glare leveling on her brother. "... has no interest in Theramore other than gaining what appears more and more to be some military advantage. Tonight is the End of Summer Festival. You will both be given guest quarters, as far from each other as possible. And..." she took a deep breath. "...if you are both willing to talk calmly I would be willing to mediate whatever dispute has erupted here. For now..." she turned abruptly and stormed towards a side door. "...you are both dismissed."

The door to Jaina's chambers slammed against the wall as she rushed into her room. She was still so furious her fisted hands were trembling.

"Go on.. let it out or your going to explode, girl," Aegwynn's voice drifted to her from the doorway.

"How could he? How could they? And... my own brother just... AHHH!" Jaina threw her hands up. Never since being nominated to lead the people of Theramore had she felt so utterly furious. "He didn't even look at me. He just stormed in here shouting out threats..."

"Very much his father's son I would say," Aegwynn shrugged. She too was displeased enough to send these men back to their respective lands as sheep but Jaina needed a calming voice now. "As for that little blow hard from Stormwind. His offer isn't that outrageous."

"What?!" Jaina spun on the older mage, her shock evident in her heart shaped face.

"To make such an offer to you, yes it probably is outrageous," Aegwynn continued, a hand raised to ask for a few moments to go on. "But at one time, Jaina, arrangements just like that were common between human kingdoms and in settling inter-kingdom disputes. However, there is no call for it here."

"Of course there isn't," Jaina fumed and paced her room. "This is a hard land but we are making a good life for ourselves. And we are certainly not being cowed by the Horde."

Jaina turned and both women stared at each other for a moment before Aegwynn threw her head back and laughed at the unintended pun. Jaina wished she felt that free but her anger was slow to leave her. It must have been what kept her from noticing the soft glow beside her bed until that moment. The carved rune she had designed years ago was calling out to her. "Thrall..." he whispered and walked towards it.

"Oh dear... what do you suppose he wants?" Aegwynn sighed and closed the chamber door. "It's been a while since either of you has used those things."

"I don't know," Jaina suddenly sprinted to her closet and pulled out her tattered blue traveling cloak. "And at the moment I don't care."

"You're not going now are you?" Aegwynn protested sourly. "After all that's happened tonight?"

"That's why I'm going," Jaina ignored Aegwynn's objection and grabbed the rune. _'Thrall... I'm coming'_, she thought intently, calling on the magic of the rune to signal her acceptance to its twin in the possession of the Horde Warchief. "I have to get out of here, for a while at least. Even if he tells me the entire host of the Burning Legion is sitting in the Barrens waiting for us."

"And what am I supposed to do with those two still here?" Aegwynn wondered if she shouldn't just interrupt the spell Jaina was forming on her lips.

"Just don't turn them into sheep," Jaina called over her shoulder as she summoned a portal and vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Influenced heavily by events in _"Cycle of Hatred"_ but may deviate from cannon. Thank you all for the wonderful comments, encouragements, and patience as I try to balance working, writing, and WoW.

**Disclaimer: **All locations and non-player characters are copyright Blizzard Entertainment. The character members of Darkspear Revival and Code of Honor (Kirin Tor) are the creations of their players. The following is written for no monetary compensation or intention for profit. Aka'Magosh.

* * *

Thrall paced the top of a butte and watched as the heavy sun began to settle into the sea. A slight downward glance and he could see torches being lit around Razor Hill. Though from the quiet he knew only a few grunts were in the fortified outpost. Most of his people were still in Orgrimmar, awaiting the fireworks promised by the mages and engineers. It had been a half an hour since he landed on the remote butte that he and Jaina had used in the past to meet and speak away from the prying eyes and ears that surrounded their respective positions. It had taken some doing for the Warchief to convince the young grunt that guarded his private airship that it was perfectly fine for Thrall to go off by himself. He was thankful he'd succeeded now, and that Jaina was obviously going to be late or perhaps not show at all.

He hadn't waited for the human mage to answer before he headed out. The walls of his quarters were closing in on him and Thrall had to get out. Even in this open space he still felt confined, as if his skin itself had become too tight. He turned and walked back towards the other side of the mesa, his thick muscles were tingling... his whole being wired, as if anticipating some great battle ahead. He sighed and ran a clawed hand slowly down his face. Perhaps he'd had too much drink? The curious thought struck him then that he didn't remember recognizing the flavor of the drink that the Elf Dawnsinger had given him.

Before he could further dwell on that idea he heard the faint sound of magic gathering behind him. He spun to see a shimmering portal opening. Jaina had come. He almost gasped at her appearance. Her hand practically shot over her shoulder to dismiss the spell. The woman's face was flush, her lips set in a thin, serious line. The delicate hands he had seen hurl destructive spells with deadly accuracy were curled up so tightly her blunt human nails still surely hurt her palms. Even from this distance he was quite sure even her scent would radiate the fact that his friend was furious.

Jaina dismissed the portal before Aegwynn could reach through it and draw her back into their discussion. Before she could even draw a relaxing breath of air she saw Thrall standing across the flat surface. The Orc looked... distressed was the only word she could think of. His expression was troubled, his body was tense, and she was certain she could see a sheen of sweat to his green skin. Something surely had happened .

"What's wrong?"

They both froze, having uttered identical words at the same time. Thrall broke the unbelieving stares first, shaking his head and motioning Jaina over. "I've sent for you at a bad time it seems," his low voice rumbled. "I apologize. Tell me what troubles you."

"It's nothing," Jaina sighed, more concerned with Thrall's obvious upset than her own 'family' troubles. "What's wrong, Thrall? It's been a while since we've spoken."

"Your own issues seem more pressing," Thrall frowned as he started towards the mage. "You look as if you could fire a spell here and strike down an unsuspecting turtle on the shores of Tanaris."

"It's not something," Jaina sighed and leaned rather heavily on her staff, lifting her gaze so she could see Thrall's face as he approached. It still impressed her that she could forget just how big the Orc really was. "It's someone... rather two someones. An emissary from Stormwind arrived today with a declaration and before he finished his ridiculous demands my brother stormed into the chamber throwing around threats backed by the Kul Tiras navy."

That brought a disapproving growl from Thrall. The last time the Kul Tiras navy had come to Durotar it was under the command of Jaina's father, a man hell bent on wiping Thrall and his Orcs from the face of Azeroth. To keep the peace they had fought so hard to establish Jaina had chosen to honor her truce with the Horde and ordered her own soldiers to stand down when Thrall and his allies laid siege to Theramore. That act of honor over blood was a point that Thrall brought up often to his advisors that spoke ill of Humans as a whole. "Is your brother planning to follow in your father's footsteps? Is he going to invade our lands as well?"

"Who isn't planning to invade?" Jaina growled herself. "Not your lands though, Thrall," she added quickly, noticing how the alright corded muscles pulled even tighter. "These threats have been made against Theramore."

"Against Theramore?" Thrall repeated in a disbelieving voice. "Your own people would make war on you?"

"As things stand at the moment that's how it appears," Jaina nodded as she began to explain. "Something has happened apparently between Stormwind and Kul Tiras. If the accusations they were hurling back and forth are to be believed it is quite a serious diplomatic situation. Tandred states he has appeared to defend what he claims is sovereignty of Kul Tiras because I helped to found Theramore. The emissary from Stormwind claims they are... concerned..." she almost choked on the word. "...about the security of Humans in Kalimdor and wishes to annex Theramore into their kingdom through a... political marriage."

"A marriage? Between?..." Thrall's blue eyes were darkening as the Orc considered the threat a Human war might pose to his people, but also as Jaina's tale continued he found himself almost seething about the position he was beginning to suspect his friend was being placed in.

"Between one of regents of the young King Wrynn and... myself," Jaina whispered, letting her own anger of the proposition seep into her words.

"Out of the question!"

Jaina's gaze snapped up. The voice was deeper but she almost laughed at how much that had sounded like her brother just now.

"This emissary and his kingdom have no sense of honor," Thrall's voice became rough with an anger whose source he couldn't place. "...if they would insist on such an arrangement to cement an alliance. You should be free to choose your own mate. And just who is this regent that he is even worthy of you?" Thrall stopped when he noticed Jaina looking at him... smiling. "Why are you smiling now?"

"I'm amused by the fact that my friend is more genuinely concerned for my feelings about this than my flesh and blood," the mage's smile widened, taking away the dark emotions that had been filling her delicate features. "Don't worry, Thrall. I have no intention of caving to either of these blow hards. And I'll do my best to keep the fall out confined to Theramore."

"I don't like the idea that you could be facing such a conflict on your own," the Orc still growled. It stopped Thrall's thoughts in midstream when he realized how protective he was feeling of Jaina at that moment. He was certain, given the opportunity, he would have knocked both these men to their knees and squeezed their necks until they could only whisper to Jaina for forgiveness.

"Thrall..." Jaina waved a slender hand in front of the Orc's vacant stare. "Now that I've burdened you with the gloom of Human politics, please tell me what's wrong. You called me for a reason."

"It's nothing," Thrall turned from the searching eyes quickly, wondering if it might be in the mage's repertoire to somehow read his troubled thoughts. "It's nothing in light of what you are already dealing with," he repeated.

"You didn't let me get away with that excuse," Jaina pointed out and strolled around Thrall until she was in front of him again. "You let me get my worries off my chest. What kind of honor would I have if I didn't try to be supportive of a friend that worries so over my well being?"

"It may take some time to explain," Thrall attempted weakly to dodge.

"I have all night," Jaina shook her head as a low boom in the distance drew their attention to the north. Above distant Orgrimmar a brilliant shimmer of red and gold sparkles appeared high in the air and rained down to the rocky ground. "Besides, we can enjoy the fireworks while we talk."

"Then we're going to have to get comfortable," Thrall relented with a sigh as he headed towards the hovering airship. "The goblins have been conspiring with some of the Elf mages for weeks now about this display. One of them claimed there will not have been such fireworks on Kalimdor since the Battle of Mount Hyjal."

"Well," Jaina shrugged out of her cloak and waited as Thrall returned with some thick, soft furs to sit on. "...if anyone is fit to be object judges of that claim it's the two of us."

"Agreed," Thrall nodded and spread out the hide and motioned for Jaina to sit first, an unconscious hold over of his early training in Human manners. Once Jaina finished arranging the length of her robes, Thrall settled himself beside her as they stared towards the distant city. "Where to begin?..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** Not dead! Not yet at any rate; however, there is nothing like health problems to sap the creativity right out of your soul. I want to thank everyone that has continued to read and watch this fic while I've been away. Your comments mean a great deal to me.

Influenced heavily by events in _"Cycle of Hatred"_ but may deviate from cannon. Thank you all for the wonderful comments, encouragements, and patience as I try to balance working, writing, and WoW.

**Disclaimer: **All locations and non-player characters are copyright Blizzard Entertainment. The character members of Darkspear Revival (Kirin Tor) and Code of Honor (Kirin Tor) are the creations of their players. The following is written for no monetary compensation or intention for profit. Aka'Magosh.

* * *

Sparks of red, blue, and green flew across the night sky of Kalimdor. They were followed in short order by brilliant flashes of gold and silver that, for a few brief seconds, outshone the moon and stars above. Colors ribboned and swirled together then fell harmlessly on the cheering denizens of Orgrimmar. Even at a distance, and though she was certain she knew all the spells being used to enhance the goblin engineered fireworks, Jaina Proudmoore had to admit they were an impressive sight. She turned her head slightly to make comment regarding such when she discovered she was being observed by blue eyes that very quickly found the fireworks interesting again.

It was then Jaina realized that sometime in the hour since Thrall had arranged some furs for them to sit on and the fireworks began she had scooted close enough to the Orc that she had been leaning on his broad chest and muscular arm for support. Thrall had accepted the move without protest and she discovered his arm had moved further back to make the position more secure and somewhat comfortable. Surely, then, he didn't object to her physical presence. She hoped to herself this would translate to a verbal exchange she had been allowing to lapse.

Thrall had summoned her from Theramore, a rare occasion these last few years, looking rather distressed. When she arrived he had put off his own concerns to hear her tale of the political goings on between her own city, the kingdom of Stormwind, and her home kingdom of Kul Tiras. If it were something threating to either of their peoples, Jaina knew that Thrall would never have let whatever was bothering him go unspoken. It was one of the things she had come to admire greatly in her unusual ally. The well being of the Horde was always foremost in his mind. No, she decided with certainty, whatever was troubling Thrall had to be something outside of his position as Warchief.

"Some show," she finally broke the lingering silence, not yet pulling her eyes back to the fireworks. "The goblins and mages had right to brag about their work. I don't think I've seen better, even in Dalaraan."

"Hnn," Thrall nodded slightly to agree, though the movement made Jaina all the more aware of how tense the Orc was. "The Elves played a heavy part in this. They seem to be going out of their way to prove themselves of use in any way to the Horde."

Jaina couldn't help but wince a bit at the unintentional implication behind the statement. She had already sailed for Kalimdor with the willing citizens she could muster from Lordaeron by the time Arthas began his march into Quel'Thalas. Only months later had she heard of the carnage, the loss of the Sunwell, and what she personally considered the cruel abandonment that had befallen the survivors at the hands of the other Alliance races in the east. She thought sadly for a moment of Kael'thas Sunstrider and the time they had spent together at the Kirin Tor. If allying his people with the Horde was what he had to do to save them, she wouldn't begrudge him that choice. "Their skill in the arcane in all its forms is beyond reproach," she offered softly. "Thrall, I don't agree with how they were treated after their kingdom was destroyed, and I'm thankful you've offered them support."

Thrall glanced to the side, regarding Jaina carefully. "It is Sylvannas Windrunner you should thank then. It was her persistence on the matter that won the Elves a chance to prove their worth to the Horde, over more than a few objections. You've had some dealings with the Elves?"

"Not in recent years," Jaina shook her head, fixing her gaze on Thrall's blue eyes to try and keep their attention. 'Eyes are the mirror of the soul,' one of her teachers had said. If that were true perhaps it would help her divine what was amiss here. "Though I knew several of them during my time in the Kirin Tor. Their tutelage in magic was highly sought after." He hadn't turned away. Now was as good a time as any she assured herself as she drew in a deep breath. "Thrall, you didn't call me here to listen to stories of the Violet Citadel or hear my grumbling about my political troubles. Will you tell me now what still has you so on edge?"

With that the Orc's face turned back to the fireworks, eyes reflecting the variety of colors perfectly. "Tell me, this Human from Stormwind, would you take him as your mate if he proved worthy?"

That was the last thing Jaina had expected to hear. It took her a few moments to get her slacked jaw to work properly enough to give a response. "Why do you ask?" she prodded, needing time to sort out a better answer.

"What would you judge him by. His deeds?.. his position?... is he tall, broad, and fine featured?" the Orc rattled off. "What standards tell you that someone is a suitable mate?"

Jaina couldn't fathom quite where this was coming from, but if it led her to the answer she was seeking she would try and play along. "Well deeds and position wouldn't be material to me if the person is a braggart about them," she admitted with a sure nod. "As for looks, well that is a factor to some I suppose but I would like to think I would be more drawn to the person himself, who he is inside." _'Though I have been a poor judge of that in the past,'_ she sighed to herself. How wrong she had been about Arthas.

"Knowing the person..."

The rough voice snapped Jaina out of her painful nostalgia and sparked a small revelation to the mage. "Thrall," she started softly, hoping to the gods she wasn't about to shove her foot into her mouth. "...have you found a mate for yourself?" She wouldn't have believed it if anyone had told her such a thing was possible, but in the light of the moon and the distant glow of fireworks she would swear that Thrall had begun to blush.

"No," he finally answered, his voice growling. "It was... mentioned this evening by someone that some of the females that are part of my guard had wanted me to attend the festivities. I realized when I watched a group of them dancing that I had never considered taking a mate. None of them... appealed to me."

His voice had become hurried at the end, cluing Jaina that this was a difficult thing for the Orc to admit. This had to be what had him on edge she reasoned and he had shared it with her of all people. It made Jaina feel proud in the same way it had when he had compared her with Taretha Foxton. "Wait..." she whispered, garnering an odd look from Thrall. "Thrall.." she tapped a finger against her lips, buying herself a few seconds to gather her thoughts. "I only know a bit about your childhood, mostly from I'm sure exaggerated stories. You were found by Aedelas Blackmoore as an infant yes? How old were you the first time you saw another Orc?"

"What does that..." Thrall began to ask then shook his head, deciding it better to just answer the question. "I'm not sure, but I was old enough to be sparring with Blackmoore's guards. I think that he'd purposely kept me from seeing other Orcs so I wouldn't realize what I was. When I was sparring with the guards a patrol brought an Orc prisoner through that part of the compound by mistake. The old warrior saw me and charged, intent on saving me from what he thought was a beating."

"And what did you think when you saw this large, probably screaming figure descending on you?" Jaina prodded gently.

"I..." Thrall closed his eyes as he thought back to that painful time of his youth. "I was terrified. I had no idea what he was, what he was saying, or why he was attacking."

"You know when you asked me about possibly marrying this man from Stormwind you listed off quite a few things that would matter to many Human women when sizing up a potential husband," Jaina pointed out softly. "Where did you learn that?"

Thrall had to think on that for a few moments before finally giving a shrug. "Tari I suppose. When we were young she would talk, wishful thinking about the kind of man she'd like to mate with someday."

_'A young girl's dreams of a prince,'_ Jaina mused, not allowing herself a moment to dwell on the bitter truths of that fairy tale. "And I bet that after Blackmoore's guards became accustomed to your presence, they would talk freely around you. Perhaps even comment on a pretty servant that passed by."

"Often," Thrall nodded, remembering clearly one day when even Sergeant had commented on how pretty Taretha was growing up to be. It struck Thrall hard then as he realized he had silently agreed with the old fighter. Among the human women he saw everyday here and there in Durnholde, Taretha always stood out to him as beautiful... in features and spirit. The features, the same determined kind of spirit. Reeling from the sudden shift in his thoughts and the sensations that had been building in him all night, he stared down at Jaina. _'Knowing the person... someone so similar to her but completely different.'_

"It make sense now, Thrall," Jaina whispered, offering a comforting smile as she reached up to touch the Orc's cheek. "You are a product of your up bringing. You were raised by Humans, surrounded by Humans. It was impossible for you not to pick up our mannerisms and outlook on certain things. You didn't feel drawn to any of those Orc women simply because until a few years ago you never knew what one looked like. You haven't' developed the frame of reference to know without a lot of thought and consideration what is or isn't attractive. I'm sure by Orc stands someone like me.. short, soft, pink... I'd be considered hideous."

"No," Thrall whispered, his voice sound rough and odd to Jaina's ears. "...You are anything but hideous." He leaned down, pressing his lips to the startled mage's forehead. In another heartbeat Thrall was on his feet, startling Jaina with just how fast the large frame could move. "Forgive me. That was..." his voice trailed off with an almost strangled sound Jaina had never heard in the Orc's voice. "I should return to Orgrimmar," he stated quickly and started towards the resting airship.

"Thrall!" Jaina scrambled to her own feet, bringing to mind the words of a spell to freeze the Orc in his tracks if he didn't stop. "Wait... talk to me." She sprinted to his side and wrapped both arms around his one thick arm. "Why did you... kiss me?" He had kissed her. She could still feel the unnatural heat on her forehead. Her mind raced wildly from thoughts of confusion over its intent to an analytical curiosity if Orc's temperatures were normally so high to a barely acknowledged almost girlish blush.

"I've apologized for my rudeness, Jaina," Thrall growled, trying to free his arm without harming the mage. "That is all I should have to say once an apology is made."

"I'm not asking for an apology, Thrall," Jaina countered and moved herself directly between the Orc and his escape. Not the wisest course of action, she had to admit to herself, but this bizarre situation needed some explanation. "I'm asking why. Why did you kiss me?"

"You should leave, Jaina," Thrall dodged the question, looking at some point off in the distance. "For you own safety."

_'My own safety?'_ Jaina mulled over, the skin of her forehead still tingling where Thrall's lips had touched her. _'So I was right about how he thinks,'_ she reasoned through a slowly forming fog. _'Ok... but he kissed me, so...'_ The implications of that line of logic rattled the mage to her core. Her eyes widened, catching the light from another brilliant explosion to the north.

"Warchief Thrall... son of Durotan..." she whispered, hoping the use of name and titles would get the Orc's attention, though a small voice in the back of her mind that sounded too suspiciously like her father railed against what she was thinking. "I do not believe for a moment that you would harm me. That said... do you want to kiss me again?"


End file.
